


My Best Friend's Girl

by jenny_wren



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 09:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenny_wren/pseuds/jenny_wren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That was the worst part, Cas was his best friend. It was just that Sam simply could not cope with Cas and Deanna together. (Always a girl Dean, no hunting, no angels)</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Best Friend's Girl

**Author's Note:**

> So my new year's resolution was to finish my WIPs, then I accidentally wrote this instead. Oops.

Sam wondered sometimes if Deanna ended up with Cas because he was the only guy she ever brought home who didn’t even flinch when Dad pulled his – I was a Marine Corporal, I know a dozen ways to kill you and hide the body – shtick. 

His best friend had just looked supremely unimpressed,

“I do not understand the point of your remark, it is hardly difficult to kill someone and render the body unfindable,” – all said in Cas’ low, flat monotone.

Sam had winced, abruptly reminded that for all Cas came across as a confused space alien, he was in fact a _really scary_ space alien, probably with the power to shoot fire from his eyes or something equally badass.

Deanna had gone all wide-eyed and breathless, grabbed Cas’ arm and yanked him out the house. Sam was mortifyingly sure Cas had got a blow job before the couple left for the movies (okay so he’d peeked, just because he couldn’t believe it was true, Deanna wouldn’t really do that, not on Dad’s porch; as it turned out Deanna totally fucking would.)

Dad had vanished to his garage out the back and, when Sam cautiously went to check on him, was drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. Dad saw him, saluted him with the bottle and took another deep gulp, coughed, and swiped the back of his hand over his mouth.

“Well,” he said gruffly, eyes daring Sam to make a smart remark, “it had to happen sometime.”

“Uh,” Sam fidgeted, “you know you can’t actually kill Cas, right?”

Dad laughed, “I do a thing to that boy, and your sister will cut my damn legs off.”

“She never did anything when you ran off Brad, or Tommy, or any of the rest of them.”

“One, she never liked any of them near a tenth as much as she likes that boy.”

Sam couldn’t help but take his life in his hands and interrupt, “Wait, Deanna _likes_ Cas. Really?” Because, since the date had been announced, he’d spent hours worrying about what would happen when Dean got tired of whatever game she was playing with Cas. He tried to warn his best friend that Deanna wasn’t exactly noted for her, well, her stickabilty, but Cas had just looked right through him,

“Samuel, you know I would ‘punch the lights out’” you could always hear the inverted commas when Cas used the colloquialisms he picked up from Deanna, “of any male who insulted your sister. Why do you believe I will make an exception for you?”

Yeah, scary badass space alien.

Dad was currently staring at him like he was the alien. “Oh Sammy, do you pay any attention to your sister at all?”

“Of course I do.” He _did_ , a bit anyway, mostly through eyes screwed up against the chance of catching Deanna macking on some guy.

“Right. Well take it from me, your sister thinks the world of that boy.”

“You know, you have called Cas by his name for the last three years.” Since Sam had dragged the new kid home for dinner, having finally found someone more out of place than he was. Even better Cas was in no position to sneer at the crazy Winchesters, like the locals did, because the Messingers were even more batshit and there were dozens of them. Sam just had Dad and Deanna.

“Castiel,” Dad’s face twisted up in disgust. “Damn did that kid get stuck with a stupid name.”

“Yes Dad, I heard you the first few thousand times. I’ve told you, his family had run out of normal angel names by the time they got to Cas.”

“Still a stupid name. Prissy as hell.” Dad nodded firmly, then he grinned and added, “Suits him.” 

Sam opened his mouth to defend his friend, but his dad was on a roll.

“So where was I? Right. Two,” Dad raised two slightly unsteady fingers, “your sister would never love anyone I can run off with a glare and a threat.”

“Okay.” Sam sort of bought that. Certainly, if you were thinking long-term, the ability to handle their dad was a must.

“Three, you think your sister wasn’t dragging those arrogant little shits back here on purpose? It’s funny as hell the way those kids start stammering out their yes sirs.”

Dad smiled and suddenly he looked disturbingly young, and disturbingly like Deanna. The damn smirk was identical. 

It made Sam stop his automatic denial, actually think, and revaluate Deanna’s actions. He had thought she was bringing home her most ‘meet the parents’ appropriate boyfriends. The quarterback and half the baseball team when she was at school; guys who had family money and the confidence it bestowed; the cool, fast set up at the college one town over; the latest, pre-Cas, was the graduate of an Ivy League college with expensive suits and a coolly superior smile.

Abruptly Sam felt incredibly stupid. He was the one who was impressed by that sort of thing. Deanna was infuriatingly indifferent to worldly success. And it was never going to impress Dad, who didn’t think a man could be called a man unless he could field strip a rifle in under a minute. 

(Cas could easily. He was as steadily competent with a gun as he was with any other tool and when the Winchesters went hunting it was Cas who helped Deanna disembowel the deer they shot. Sam liked venison sausages just fine, but he was unbearably squeamish about the dead floppy head, all the blood, and the _smell_. Fish were okay, as long as he didn’t have to touch their sharp slippery scales, or have his hands stink of fish for the next week. Of course it took Deanna less than a minute to field strip _and_ reassemble a rifle. She won bets on it.)

“You saying Deanna never liked any of them?” 

Dad rolled his eyes, “I should never have let them advance you those two years.”

“What? Why?” snarled Sam, instinctively defensive at the mention of his hardest fought battle - to skip a year of middle school, and then, after only a term, go straight into High School as a freshman for the rest of the year. “I have a four point naught GPA.”

“And a head made of solid wood.”

“I have _not_.”

Dad sighed deeply, and took another swig of whiskey, “Now listen carefully,” he thumped one heavy hand down on Sam’s shoulder, “because tomorrow I’m going to be pretending this whole night never happened.”

Sam tried to look attentive and not turn up his nose at the stench of whiskey on his dad’s breath.

“Your sister likes a pretty face as much as the rest of us. And she’s got a nasty sense of humor. So when her pretty boys turn out to have souls of clay, she brings them home so I can make ‘em squirm.”

“So if that’s true, how do you know she didn’t want you to run Cas off like the others?”

“You really don’t pay any attention to your sister.” Dad shook his head. “Go away Sam and let me get drunk in peace.”

So Sam did, because it had taken him a while, but he had finally learnt Deanna maybe had a point when she said it was stupid to provoke their dad while he was drinking.

 

So, since Cas survived the Dad test, he sort of stuck around by default. Sam wasn’t really sure why since he and Deanna had the most horrendous yelling, screaming, door-slamming fights. Which was pretty weird actually cause Deanna was usually a punch and call it done sort of person, and Cas never lost his temper, just grew increasingly sarcastic.

But together – they were a match tossed into a can of gasoline.

It was only a week after Cas had formally met Dad as ‘the boyfriend’, that Deanna came storming home red-eyed and angry. The front door crashed open, rebounded off the wall and banged shut as Deanna thundered up the stairs. Sam, peering cautiously out his own room, saw her wrench her bedroom door open, then slam it behind her. Her scream was furious, and followed by a rattling series of thumps. Sam hoped they were books hitting the floor and not anything more breakable. Something glass shattered.

Sam crept along the corridor and tapped on the door, “Deanna, are you okay? You want to talk about it?”

“No I do not want to talk about it. Fucking hell! Which one of us is the girl again?”

“Deanna?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to braid my hair and have a sleepover. I don’t want to get tipsy on Baileys and paint my toenails.”

There was a pause as she gulped for breath, and Sam’s world was rocked by the realization his sister might well be crying.

“Deanna?”

“What I want is to punch Cas in his stupid fucking mouth, failing that I’ll settle for getting blitzed on whiskey as soon as my idiot brother leaves me in PEACE!” 

Sam edged nervously back from the door. Deanna never shouted at him, not like that. He rubbed his hand against his mouth feeling unaccountably scolded and not liking it one bit. 

Thoughtfully he walked down the stairs.

Dad walked out the kitchen and grabbed his arm, “Hold on, where do you think you’re going?” 

“Deanna wanted Cas punched in the mouth, so I’m gonna go do that.” Sam nodded his head firmly. Cas did not get to upset his sister like this.

“If Deanna really wanted somebody punched in the mouth, she’d do it her own damn self.”

“Hey, it’s what she said.” Sam yanked his arm away from his dad, glaring at him. They stood eye to eye now and Sam couldn’t wait for the extra inches that would let him look down.

“Fine,” Dad backed away, hands raised. “You do what you want. But don’t come crying to me when your sister finds out.”

Sam snorted and slammed out the house. 

He took the Impala, it was a mission for Deanna after all, sped over to the Messingers sprawling house, leapt out and started to hammer on the door.

Cas’ short, irritating, cousin finally opened it.

“Oh and it’s a Winchester, color me completely unsurprised.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Sounds like a heard of wild beasts, check, creating a total ruckus, check, with no consideration for other people, check. Gotta be a Winchester. Cas is in his room, go bother him, he actually likes you lunkheads.”

Abruptly reminded of his mission, Sam pushed past Gabriel and stormed up the stairs.

“No don’t thank me, always a pleasure to be rid of one of you.”

Sam ignored him. Reaching the third floor and Cas’ cubbyhole in the attic, he slammed his fist against Cas’ door.

“I said go away,” yelled Cas, sounding almost as mad as Deanna.

Sam hit the door again.

“Deanna, I thought,” Cas broke off as the door swung open and he saw Sam. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Yeah, it’s me,” said Sam, and hit him – or rather tried to, Cas ducked.

“What are you doing?” Cas dodged again, “Deanna can’t have put you up to this?”

“Shut up,” Sam growled, suddenly insanely furious about everything from Cas upsetting Deanna, to the infuriating way he said her name, like he had a right to it. Shoving with his shoulder, he crowded Cas into the wall where he could make his extra height and weight count. They struggled together, lashing out with feet and fists, then Cas managed to get a lucky strike, duck under Sam’s arms and flee the room.

“What is all this?” he demanded again. “Have you gone mad?”

The sound of his voice scrapped raw against Sam’s skin. Howling with fury, he dived at Cas, knocking them both down the stairs as they scrabbled at each other.

In the distance Sam vaguely heard Gabriel start up again, 

“And the ruckus gets worse. What are you two –,” but he was mostly intent on punching Cas in the kidneys. So the high, sharp whistle caught him totally by surprise. Then there were multiple hands dragging him and Cas apart.

Sam fought them, striking out blindly, not even sure who he was fighting, but there were too many of them and he ended up on his knees, hands trapped behind his back, wrists pinned tightly together in an implacable grip.

“What the hell do you think you’re playing at, Winchester?” Gabriel hissed in his ear.

“I told you this girl was trouble.” 

Sam recognized that sneering voice from school. It was Uriel, yet another of Cas’ cousins. He struggled but Gabriel’s hold tightened until he thought his wrist bones creaked.

Cas laughed, “If Deanna wanted my head kicked in, she would complete the operation herself.”

“Huh,” said Gabriel, “that’s very likely true. Uriel come and keep hold of Rambo here. Cas give me your phone.”

Sam’s arms were yanked even more tightly behind his back.

“Give me a reason,” snarled Uriel. Sam stayed still. Nobody with any sense fought against Uriel. Six or seven of Cas’ cousins were standing around staring at the confrontation and Sam squirmed under their bright, interested eyes feeling too much like a moderately interesting science experiment for comfort.

Cas disappeared for a second and came back with his phone which he handed straight to Gabriel. Gabriel punched a few buttons.

“Let’s see, where is – oh dear Castiel, that really is too sickeningly sweet.”

Castiel glared but there was a red tinge to his cheeks.

“Alright let’s see what Winchester the elder has to say for herself.” He dialed and put the phone to his ear,

“Hey sweetheart!”

“– well really, your manners are as bad as your brother’s.”

“– What do you mean which of Cas’ moronic cousins is this? It’s Gabriel, sweetheart, I’m hurt you didn’t recognize my voice.” He put his hand over the phone and leaned towards Cas, 

“She said she should have guessed. Is that a compliment, or an insult?”

“With Deanna it is always wisest to assume she intended an insult,” said Cas with an utterly straight face.

“Well sweetheart, your boyfriend says you were insulting me. – Charming.” He turned to Cas, “She says clearly she’ll have to try harder next time.”

“Clearly.” Cas’ lips twitched.

“I’m actually calling for a reason. I think you’ve mislaid something of yours? You want to come pick him up?”

“ – No I’m not talking about Cas.”

“ – oooh sweetheart, that was not ladylike.” Gabriel winced and yanked the phone away from his ear. “How on earth did she manage to make it sound like she’d slammed the phone down?”

“Deanna’s talented like that,” said Cas complacently.

“Apparently so.” Gabriel appeared to dismiss Cas then, spinning on his toes to face Sam. “Well Sammy, sounds like someone’s in trou-ble,” he sing-songed. “Now I was thinking I’d give Mike ring, maybe even Luke; but actually our dear Deanna sounds mad enough to give them a both a run for their money.”

Sam didn’t understand how he’d ended up the bad guy.

They muscled him down stairs. He didn’t bother to fight. He was a little bit nervous about Deanna being ‘mad’. Deanna didn’t really get mad, at least not with him, but there had been one or two painful instances in the past that he didn’t like to think about too closely.

The squeal of brakes as Deanna screeched up in the truck made him wince. The Messingers all backed away from him, even Uriel, and abandoned Sam to his fate.

“Cas,” he appealed without thinking about it. Cas could always make his sister see reason.

Cas folded his arms and looked at him; Sam recalled that now was probably not the time to be asking for favors.

Gabriel opened the door, “Sweetheart,” he caroled.

“Shut the fuck up, Gabe,” Deanna blew past him without a glance. She was icy pale and her eyes were on fire.

“I’m sorry,” said Sam involuntarily and without any real idea of what he was apologizing for, except that he was sorry.

Deanna ignored him, her focus on Cas. Sam glanced at his best friend, and winced when he saw Cas’ puffy eye and split lip. Deanna made a small hurt sound. Then Sam was reeling back clutching his stinging face.

“What the -?” he mumbled. 

Deanna grabbed his arm and yanked him upright. “Move it, buster.”

Mouth smarting, cheek throbbing, it took Sam a dizzying moment to realize his sister had punched twice, quick and vicious. 

“Hey,” he tried to pull free of her grip, but she twisted his arm around and up.

“I said, move it.” She twisted his arm a little harder for emphasis. Sam yelped, and leant forward to relieve the pressure on his wrist. “Now. Get in the truck.”

“Wait, you’re leaving the Impala?”

The implacable grip on his wrist kept him moving forwards. “You’re not riding in my baby again until you’ve graduated college, maybe not even then. Now shut up and get in the truck.”

Sam shut up and got in truck. They rode in silence back to the house. Deanna, still silent, climbed out the truck and walked up the steps to the house, she stopped just before the door.

“Dad said your head is solid wood and to go easy on you, so I’ll let it drop for now. But you ever deliberately hurt Cas again, and I’ll break both your legs.”

“Hah,” said Sam stupidly relieved at the smallness of the threat. “Aren’t you going to threaten to kill me?”

“No, because you know I’d never actually kill you. I will break your legs.”

Sam had the unnerving feeling she wasn’t even bluffing. He trailed after her into the house. Dad met them and handed Sam a bag frozen peas wrapped in a towel,

“I did warn you, son.”

“Mmmph,” said Sam pathetically as he pressed the ice bag to his swelling bruises. Deanna didn’t turn back to fuss over his injuries, she just kept on walking quietly up the stairs.

Dad sighed, “You know, everyone told me it was raising a daughter that would be the hard part of being a single father.”

 

Nothing more was said about the matter by either Deanna or Cas, and Sam was happy enough to sweep it aside as a thing to be forgotten. Deanna and Cas’ on-off relationship continued to jolt along. Sam thought the whole thing was ridiculously stupid.

His dad told him to try thinking about why he didn’t like the idea. Sam retorted that Deanna would break Cas’ heart and Sam would lose his best friend, the only person in the world willing to put up with his crazy family.

Dad stared at him for a long moment. Sam squirmed and looked away. So Deanna and Cas had been going out for most of Cas’ senior year and they didn’t seem any closer to breaking up permanently. It took Sam only a moment’s further thought to discover the obvious answer. He knew he didn’t like sharing. Obviously he didn’t like sharing his friend with his sister.

Cas was supposed to be his best friend but suddenly he was hanging around Deanna all the time, doing the things Sam used to do, reading out homework essays, running through test answers, ordering pizza (vegetarian with extra pepperoni, cos you gotta eat your veggies, Sammy), going to the cheap matinee movies, because they were all Deanna could afford. Deanna even picked him up from the school, in the impala Sam was no longer allowed to ride in.

Deanna always picked him up from school. Presumably when he was really little she used to wait with Dad but in his memories it always just Deanna. She’d swing him up onto her shoulders and run home, while Sam flung his arms in the air and pretended he was flying. By the time he was too big to be carried, Deanna was driving the impala on a forged license and viciously low-cut tops to distract from her too young face. But always, always, no matter where they were, Deanna was there to pick him up from school.

Sam wanted to go back in time and do a better job of kicking Cas’ head in.

Then when Deanna actually suggested that they go to the movies together, no Cas. Sam had sneered, 

“Lover boy too busy to take you out?”

Deanna shrugged one shoulder, “It was Cas’ suggestion. He has this idea that you’re missing spending time with me.”

“Cas can keep his stupid mouth shut. Why would I miss you nagging at me?”

“A simple no would’ve been fine, Sammy.” Deanna slid away.

Sam growled and punched the wall. It hadn’t been a no. 

Deanna didn’t ask again.

 

Senior year dragged out endlessly. It seemed to take as long as the rest of Sam’s schooling put together. Seeing Cas at school was a never-ending itch of irritation under his skin. He couldn’t even avoid him successfully because Cas was his partner in all his senior year projects. It wasn’t fair. He’d been so thrilled when the Messinger circus had rolled into town. Michael Messinger was running for state senator, which was a lot easier if your family was based in the state, so an assorted collection of Messingers moved in into small-town Kansas because it looked great in the poll data.

Just by showing up the Messingers solved one of Sam’s problems. It was a small town and if a bit too large for everyone to know everyone else, it was small enough for everyone to have heard of everyone else and for outsiders to stick out like sore thumbs. Sam had been so excited when they’d moved in to their forever home but it turned out that unlike any movie he’d ever seen, the locals had no intention of accepting the newcomers no matter what. He was pretty sure not even defeating an undead monster would have worked. So the Winchesters had been stuck as the weird transplants, until Cas’ family showed up to claim the title.

The younger Messingers blasted into the High School disrupting the entire hierarchy that the other students had been building since nursery. Uriel and Melchior, being total assholes themselves, knocked the local assholes down a peg or two and it was nerdy little Cas who caught the fallout.

Sam had stepped in. He wasn’t exactly liked, but nobody messed with him either. Not since Keller sent him home with a black eye and Deanna had called on Keller’s family to remonstrate. Keller’s old man hadn’t taken kindly to a little lady telling him how to raise his son, Deanna hadn’t taken kindly to him smarming all over her, and in the ensuing scuffle Deanna gave _him_ a black eye. Which the entire town found hilarious.

Keller’s older brother had decided to restore the family honor by rounding up a couple of friends, getting stinking drunk, and then trying to jump Deanna and Sam in their own house. Deanna grabbed the double-barreled shotgun and blasted them all with rock salt, then reloaded with live ammunition while Sam called the sheriff.

Deanna refused to press charges on the basis if they went around arresting people for being fucking stupid the sheriff would have to arrest the whole damn town. The town found that somewhere between hilarious and sharply sarcastic depending on how much shit they’d given them beforehand and a lot of the adults started eyeing Deanna with wary respect. At school the other kids gave Sam the stink-eye but nobody hassled him again.

So Sam had stepped easily between Cas and the bullies, smiled, and mentioned Deanna’s name.

“Hiding behind big sister, Winchester?”

“Better than hiding _from_ her like the rest of you.” 

They snorted and skulked but nobody was actually prepared to risk Deanna’s reaction. If hiding behind his big sister was mildly embarrassing that was nothing to the embarrassment of getting your ass kicked by a _girl_ , even if she was two years older than you. 

Cas just looked confused by the whole thing. So Sam showed him the way to AP English and they bonded over a mutual incomprehension of the Great Gatsby. Sam told Cas all about how he was going to be a lawyer, the best ever. Cas confessed he wanted to take photos in every state, and Sam knew he’d get on with Deanna, who still whined about how they’d never ticked Idaho off their list (seriously Sammy, we’ve been through Delaware five times and it’s so tiny you miss it if you blink too hard, how’d we not make it to Idaho?)

Cas was soon following Sam around, like a puppy the kids at school said, but it was more that Cas would space out to the point the minutia of school life had no relevance and as long as he was with Sam, Sam would deal with all the stuff Cas blinked through like registration, and homework assignments, and actually getting to class.

Sam presumed some other Messinger had towed Cas around like a wayward dinghy before they arrived in Kansas. He didn’t understand Cas’ disinterest. Sam loved school it was perfect, everything was organized and logical and made sense. And it wasn’t as if Cas wasn’t freakily intelligent. You had to be intelligent to be pulling A grades when you were reading Catullus under the desk during calculus.

Deanna never got more than a C. Cas snorted when Sam made the comparison, 

“Samuel, your sister was working two jobs and she believed them when they said they wanted honesty and original thought. Deanna is as intelligent as she is lovely.”

Sam focused straight in on the important point, “Deanna is not _lovely_.”

Cas shook his head and picked up his book, as if the earthlings were too stupid to be worth the effort of communication.

Sam had smiled because he really did like the little nerd alien. That was the worst part, Cas _was_ his best friend. It was just that Sam simply could not cope with Cas and Deanna _together_.

But slowly, painfully, the year inched round and it was finally, finally over. Then there was only the long anticipated prom.

Thankfully Cas turned down it down. He disliked parties on principal, and Deanna only liked them when she could flirt outrageously. She claimed this was completely impossible with a load of drunken eighteen year old idiots, so she and Cas boycotted the prom for their own private celebration. And Sam was able to spend the night blissfully trauma free.

He went to the prom with one of sophomores and, for all Deanna ranted on about how bad he was at understanding people’s motivations, he knew perfectly well Ruby only accepted because she wanted to go to the senior prom. It didn’t bother him any, he got to go to the prom with one of the prettiest girls. It was all just like he’d imagined it would be ever since he’d first seen a prom when he was eight and staring big eyed at another world through the television screen.

And in September he’d be going to Harvard and never have to see anyone from high school ever again until the reunion.

Not including Cas of course, who was also going to Harvard. It was Cas who had inspired him to apply there in the first place. All of Cas’ family went to Harvard – except Gabriel who dropped out of Berkley to bum around India, and Luke, the black sheep who went to Caltech.

Unlike the rest of the year, summer seemed to whizz by. Sam didn’t see a lot of Deanna and Cas, or anybody really. He’d scored work experience at the lawyers’ office downtown and his evenings were spent working in the pizza parlor. Serving kids he knew from school seriously sucked, he had no idea how Deanna had stood it for so many years. It must be easier for girls. He couldn’t imagine those asshole jocks giving his beautiful sister the trouble they gave him.

Dad wasn’t there of course. Once again he’d abandoned his detective agency (a fancy term for what was basically a one man band legal fig-leaf for Dad’s determination to track down his wife’s killer) and taken off to track down yet another so-called lead.

Cas spent two weeks interning at the family accountancy firm in New York that he’d join after graduation and the rest of summer helping Deanna keep the detective agency up and running. 

He and Deanna were still fighting. About whether Cas should accept his second choice college with the photography program that Cas yearned for and Deanna thought was a great idea. About whether Deanna should take the electronics class she’d been mooning over since they settled in town and Cas had been encouraging for nearly as long. About whether they should take a trip to Washington DC, which neither of them wanted to visit, or go and see the Grand Canyon, which they’d both been talking of longingly for years.

Somehow Sam thought it was entirely typical of them that, even when they were fighting like it was the end of the world, they were still both on the same side.

Deanna and Cas had one final spectacular blow-out fight two days before he and Cas left for Harvard. Cas was still in a vile mood when they got the flight to California. He refused to take a seat near Sam, or even look at him really. Sam thought it was incredibly unfair he was catching the fallout of Cas’ relationship crashing and burning, but when he started to remind Cas that he _had_ warned him, Cas disappeared into the depths of the airport and very nearly missed their flight in his desire to avoid Sam.

But then they arrived at Harvard and Sam forgot all his niggling frustrations in the knowledge that he had _arrived_.

 

Sam loved Harvard, it exciting and busy and full of people who didn’t know him as that weird Winchester kid. He had a whole slew of new friends just as keen and eager as he was, his best friend was there to keep him company, and Deanna was being Deannaish back home where she was supposed to be.

Sam was in heaven.

The only cloud on his horizon was that Cas didn’t seem to realize he and Deanna had broken up. Wherever Cas introduced himself to new people he always mentioned his girlfriend Deanna within the first thirty seconds, as if he couldn’t exist on his own without her. It infuriated Sam, who would never have mentioned her at all if he had the choice. Not that Sam wasn’t fond of his sister but he didn’t want to talk about her. It was embarrassing, like talking about your parents. Nobody talked about their parents – one of Sam’s first surprising discoveries was that everybody was embarrassed about their parents. Sarah, on the floor below them, thought her parents were embarrassing even though, from what little she let slip, they were TV-perfect. Sam was jealous.

However Deanna was Cas’ favorite topic of conversation. Honestly Sam wouldn’t have thought there was so much to say about his sister. And since most people were in the process of breaking up with their pre-college girl and boyfriends, Cas’ persistent attachment attracted comment, and soon Cas was being mocked about his perfect girlfriend who lived in Canada.

Cas being Cas of course, didn’t get he was the butt of a joke and just replied seriously each time that, no, Deanna lived in Kansas.

Sam wanted to shake him. He did steal all his photos of Deanna before he could bore anyone rigid with them. Because, as he complained to Sarah, Cas wasn’t even going out with Deanna anymore, and Sam should report him for stalking except for the fact Cas hadn’t even seen her for the last month. Sarah just looked at him funny, and Sam shut up because he liked Sarah and he didn’t want arguing about Deanna and Cas to spoil their growing friendship.

It did niggle at him, because he was right damnit, but something Deanna said about not having to rub peoples noses in it came back to him. And he did like Sarah; he didn’t need to prove he was right. So take that, Dee-dee, he was too a grown-up.

 

Then, one cloudy November day, Sam heard the rumble that rattled right through his bones and turning he saw the Impala roll onto campus like a visitation from another world.

“Sam, you okay?” asked Sarah as he froze where he stood, watching in disbelief as Cas smiled, raised his hand in acknowledgement, and then Deanna was climbing out the car.

“Wow,” said Sarah, “okay, I know how Castiel talks about her, but wow, I never imagined your sister was that gorgeous.”

“How do you know that’s Deanna?”

“Did you not see Castiel’s face? It was like heaven had decided drop by for a visit.”

“Humph,” huffed Sam, because everybody was staring, jaws dropping. It was utterly ridiculous.

Deanna had obviously decided to go for it in a big way and was wearing a dress made of _gingham_ , of all things. Of course this was Deanna so it was kind of perverted gingham. Deanna either wore pants, or skirts and dresses short enough to allow her to move freely, this translated into skirts and dresses just a bit too short for convention that flared out from the hip. (Sam had listened to way too many rants from Deanna on the subject while she stood on a stool in the kitchen and he sat beside her pinning the edge straight on her skirts before she hemmed them up on the old cranky hand turned sewing machine.)

She was wearing Dad’s old leather jacket over the top. Deanna always wore that damn jacket, but somehow over gingham it made her look almost fragile. The heavy work boots only seemed to add the effect, even though Sam knew they had steel toes that their owner wasn’t afraid to use.

Deanna had let her hair grow out from its practical crew-cut back when Dad started leaving them at the house instead of dragging them along with him like particularly ambulatory luggage. Dad was away for three straight months and by the time he came back Sam had managed to wreck the dreaded clippers (he might not understand electronics like Deanna did, but even he could unscrew the back and cut all the wires) and Deanna had taught herself how to cut hair. Secretly she was rather vain about her hair, actually going to the expense of buying separate shampoo and conditioner that she got mad at Sam for using.

After she started dating Cas she let her hair grow even longer because Cas liked it like that. Sam had seen enough TV shows to know that you weren’t supposed to change yourself for other people, but Deanna had laughed off his concern; if it don’t make you change, Sammy, what the hell would be the point? besides Cas brushes it sometimes, I’d go full-on Rapunzel for that shit. Then Sam had remembered all the reasons he tried not to think about Deanna and Cas.

Now as she walked forwards Deanna pulled her hair loose from its ponytail and roughly ran her hands through it. Sam wouldn’t have called it styled himself, but the rather disturbing moan from Cas suggested he liked it.

Usually she stalked through life, all fuck you and your brother too, but walking up to Cas she looked so soft and slinky, Sam was embarrassed to be watching. Glancing around at the other students nobody else seemed to have a problem; their eyes were practically popping out on stalks.

“I’d do her in New York minute.”

“No way, _she_ is an entire dirty weekend.”

It wouldn’t be so bad, but those were _female_ voices. 

Sam huffed and scrunched up his shoulders, “You’d think nobody’d seen a pretty girl before.”

Sarah half-laughed, “I think your sister is fairly unique.”

“Well of course she is.” Sam risked a peek back, Deanna and Cas were plastered against each other, and okay, he wasn’t looking anymore.

“Seriously, I don’t think she’s wearing any makeup.”

“She isn’t,” said Sam with certainty. Deanna didn’t wear makeup. She said they didn’t have enough money to waste on useless things like that. Sam had saved up and bought her some for her birthday when he was ten. The bathroom mirror ended up broken and Deanna, her eyes red and sore from the soap, had dropped the makeup in the trash; it was nice of you to try Sammy, but I just look like a clown. So they made chocolate cake and went bowling instead. Sam took the blame for the mirror, it was sort of his fault after all. Deanna made all his favorites the next week so he knew he was forgiven.

“She’s amazing. To show up all casual like that. If I was seeing my boyfriend after two months apart, I’d want to knock his socks off.”

Sam blinked sharply, because this was Deanna trying, this was Deanna doing everything she knew how to knock Cas’ socks off. In that moment Sam didn’t care about anything but making sure Cas’ socks were knocked right out of the park.

He’d stormed half way over before he it struck him that Cas was quite obviously appreciative of Deanna’s efforts and that really Sam should have known better. Cas didn’t exactly have high standards. Sam’d seen his best friend go all dreamy-eyed over Deanna in worn jeans and one of Dad’s old wife-beaters, smear of dark grease across her cheek.

Luckily for him, the couple came up for air at his approach.

“Sammy!” Deanna flung herself at him for a hug. Sam caught her and swung her around, wobbling slightly as he was assailed by the sense memory of Deanna swinging _him_ around like that when she met him after school.

“It’s Sam,” said Sam as he put her back on her feet, far too happy to even attempt to sound grumpy.

“Aww, you’ll always be my little Sammy.”

Sam wanted to shrink down so his sister could ruffle her hands through his hair like she used to. He must have ducked his head, or maybe Deanna was just thinking the same thing, because she suddenly reached up and carded her hands through his hair. 

“My little Sammy.”

Sam hugged her again. When he remembered their audience he flushed and glanced around quickly, but Sarah was just smiling at him, not meanly but pleased and happy for him.

“Right,” said Sam stupidly, too caught off guard to think of anything sensible to say.

“Hey, hey,” somebody yelled, “Castiel, dude, how much did you have to pay _her_ to turn up here?”

Deanna and Cas exchanged puzzled, what the hell is he talking about, glances, Sarah gasped, and Sam was stuck between laughing and throwing a punch.

“So what’s your rate, baby? Maybe I can book you next,” continued the idiot.

“Wait,” said Deanna, “is he implying I’m a,” she shrunk deeper into Dad’s jacket and folded her arms around herself. Sam cocked his head, confused. Deanna’s usual response to that sort of thing was; more than you could ever afford, sucker.

“His intention is to insult me, not you,” said Castiel calmly.

“In that case.” Deanna span around, murder in her eyes. Sam grabbed her instinctively,

“Not on school grounds.”

“Oh come on, they can’t still have that stupid rule, can they? Aren’t you all supposed to be grown-ups?”

“Grown-ups aren’t supposed to fight,” said Sam hopelessly because everyone else, Dad, Deanna, and even Cas, considered violence to be a totally appropriate response.

“Oh screw that.”

The idiot sauntered up to them, “So you’re telling me you’re really going out with Mr Socially Hopeless? What can a hot thing like you see in him?”

Deanna’s eyebrows went up, “He doesn’t call me a hot thing for a start.”

“I could,” offered Cas, “you know, if you wanted me to.”

“Call me a hot thing?”

“Well you are,” Cas was using his extremely level, arguing philosophy tone. Sam wondered if anybody other than Deanna got that he was teasing. “So it would at least be accurate. As opposed to say, cupcake, which you are not.”

“I am sweet though.”

“You are not.” Cas’ mouth was a flat line but his eyes were grinning wildly. “You are TNT in a red hot wrapper.”

“But not sweet?” Deanna mock-pouted.

“Fortunately not. You are extremely reliable though, like a Timex.”

Since takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’ was the aspiration of Deanna’s life, she flushed a deep rosy pink at the compliment. Sam wasn’t sure he liked Cas knowing so much about his sister.

“I believe it is now traditional for you to offer me a compliment in return,” Cas continued.

“Uh,” Deanna’s eyes went wide as her brain clearly stalled. 

“You could for instance comment on my physical prowess.” Cas rolled his shoulders and struck a pose that would have looked good if he wasn’t a skinny little thing. “Or my ability to change tires and fill the car with oil.”

Sam snorted, because all three of them knew nobody but Deanna messed with her baby.

“I’d let you,” said Deanna softly, not quite looking at Cas, “change her tires, or fix the oil.”

Sam’s mouth hung open in disbelief. Not even _Dad_ was allowed to touch the Impala.

“That has got to be a euphemism,” said the idiot, strutting up to tap Deanna on the shoulder, “Baby, you can change my tires anytime.”

Deanna reluctantly tore her eyes from Cas to focus on the idiot, “Haven’t you buzzed off yet.” She shoved him, and Cas helpfully stuck one foot out, so the idiot tripped and stumbled away.

“We should go somewhere else and discuss this further,” said Cas. He looked so ridiculously happy, he might actually have been glowing.

“I take it the car is a big deal?” whispered Sarah.

“God, yes,” agreed Sam. “We practically lived in her until I was eleven and Deanna finally convinced Dad a home base was cheaper than motels.”

“Uh,” Deanna back-tracked, “you know, I meant if I wasn’t there, and it was an emergency, a bad emergency.”

“Shush,” Cas kissed her. He was still glowing away like someone had forgotten to switch him off. “I know exactly what you meant. Now let us take the Impala to a more suitable location, where there is no threat of it being towed, and we will come back to meet Sam and Sarah after class.”

“Okay,” Deanna pulled the keys out her pocket, tossed them in the air and caught them. Suddenly she clutched them close, “I’m still driving.”

“Naturally,” said Cas, as if he’d never expected anything else. Being Cas he probably hadn’t. “Sam, Sarah we will see you at three.” They swung quickly into the Impala and left, Deanna almost clipping some of the crowd that didn’t get out of the way in time.

“Whoo,” Sarah fanned her hands in front of her face. “So that’s your sister.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing bad, so lower those hackles mister. It’s just you and Castiel both clearly think she walks on water so I kind of had this image in my mind. Only she wasn’t what I imagined at all.”

Sam frowned.

“In a good way, I promise. C’mon, anyone who feels the need to qualify the word emergency with bad has got to be worth getting to know better.”

“I guess.”

“And they’re back here at three. That means I’ve got, less than four hours!”

“Less than four hours to what?”

“To get ready. I need to have a shower, do my hair.”

“Why? I thought we were going to meet Deanna and Cas.”

“Exactly. Thank goodness I did my laundry, all I need to do is iron my red shirt.”

“But – you don’t need to do all this stuff for them.”

“Of course I do, silly. You only get one chance to make a first impression after all.”

“Deanna won’t care what you’re wearing.” But Sam was speaking to her back as she was already hurrying away.

“I’ll see you at three,” she called, mind clearly on other things. Sam might have pouted a bit. What was all the fuss about meeting Deanna?

 

Sam felt thoroughly conspicuous for the rest of the day. People kept pointing him out and could tell by the leers on their faces they were talking about Deanna. It made him grind his teeth. At least Cas had never leered.

He was in a thoroughly bad mood by the time three o’clock rolled around and he stomped up to find Deanna and Cas were already there, sitting in their own little bubble apparently completely unaware of all the attention they were attracting.

They sat side by side, Deanna’s legs hooked over Cas’ legs, heads tucked so close together they were breathing each other’s air.

“Fuck, you two couldn’t look any more post-coital if you were smoking.”

“Hello to you too, Sammy.”

“You have grass stains on your _knees_ , Deanna.”

“Got grass pretty much everywhere,” she taunted and picked some out of her hair to prove it.

Fortunately Sarah rushed up before Sam could reply to that.

“I am so, so sorry I’m late.”

“Hey, no worries,” said Deanna, unpeeling herself from Cas and holding out her hand. She stiffened up when Sarah used it as leverage to draw her into a hug, but didn’t say anything just glowered at Sam over Sarah’s shoulder, her eyes clearly saying, control your crazy girlfriend.

Sam went to the rescue and urged Sarah back. Other than the red shirt she’d mentioned, he couldn’t see she looked any different to how she looked before she’d run off. He thought he’d better not mention it though, girls got very odd about that sort of thing.

“So we should all go out tonight,” said Sarah brightly. She was twitching slightly.

“Are you nervous?” Sam asked incredulously.

“No,” she slapped his arm, “don’t be silly.”

“Ow,” Sam rubbed his offended arm. Girls were just very odd full stop.

“Sure,” said Deanna, “that sounds nice.”

“Excellent, I booked us a table for four at L’Arpege.”

“Uh, that’s a little over the top,” because Sam had _seen_ that restaurant.

“We agreed I could take you anywhere I want when it’s my turn to organize a date.”

“Yes but,” Sam waved his arms helplessly.

She turned on Deanna, “You want to go, don’t you?”

Sam sent her urgent messages with his eyebrows over the top of Sarah’s head.

Deanna chuckled, somehow managing not to sound forced at all, “I only packed lightly. I’m not sure I have anything suitable to wear.”

Sam relaxed again. Deanna was so much better than him at this sort of thing. If he hadn’t known for a fact that Deanna owned nothing remotely suitable for attending exclusive French restaurants in, he would never have guessed.

“We have time,” said Sarah cheerfully, “we can go shopping, just us girls, and pick something up. It will be fun. Come on what do you say.”

Sam flinched and Deanna stiffened up like a poker. They both instinctively glanced at Cas for help.

“That sounds like a great idea,” said Cas, and they both stared at him in betrayal. “Although I will have to insist on a strict budget.”

“Budget?” parroted Deanna.

“I know how you ladies can get.” Cas kissed her gently. She was already relaxing and returning to her natural with-Cas state. Sam had never realized how tense his sister normally was until she started going out with Cas. “And while I acknowledge this is my date, I don’t think a budget is too much to ask.”

“Oh,” said Sarah, “you do the one person pays for the whole date, and next time it’s the other persons turn thing too.”

“I believe we are where Sam obtained the idea.” Cas smiled at him.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “and we didn’t have to have three stand-up fights and one shattered door before we agreed on it either.” 

Sam had suggested the plan when it became apparent Sarah had a far more money than he did. He’d played up the starving student, too proud to ask his dad for more cash angle and managed to avoid confessing that his living expenses were being covered by his sister’s waitressing tips. 

Cas, like his whole family, had money in a big way. And he’d give it all to Deanna if she’d let him. The arguments prior to the date night agreement had been horrendous and Sam was fairly sure worse arguments were coming.

When he had found out his full scholarship didn’t cover his books (and how was that logical? how did they expect him to study without books?) Cas had insisted on buying them for him and when Sam protested, Cas had shoved him up against the wall and snarled,

“You are not asking your sister for that money.”

“Deanna will understand.”

“I will not. You will not ask your sister for more money she does not have. Do you understand?”

“But,”

“I said, do you understand?” Cas shook him then. So Sam shut up and let him buy the books; and stuff for the room; and declare his laptop wasn’t quite right, he needed a new one, would Sam like the old one; and bring home more food than one person could ever reasonably eat. 

He felt awkward, but Cas could afford it and more, and it wasn’t really for Sam, it was all for Deanna. Sam could put up with feeling uncomfortable if it meant he didn’t have to ask his sister for money.

“Sam got the idea for swopping dates from you,” Sarah repeated.

“Like I just said. It seemed to work for them. The door certainly appreciated it anyway.”

“Shut up Sammy, the hinges were always wonky.”

“Yeah right.” 

Deanna socked him in the arm, and Sam socked her back. They struggled for a bit but since Sam had outgrown her the outcome was a forgone conclusion, unless things got really nasty because Deanna fought down and dirty when cornered.

“Oh,” said Sarah, she was looking at Cas. “Oh I see.”

“What?” snapped Deanna, “Sam let me go. What are we talking about?”

“Nothing important,” said Cas. “So budget.”

“I don’t know Cas, it all sounds a bit suss to me. Too much like Pretty Woman for my taste.”

Cas made his eyes very big, “I think you have a rather inflated idea of the budget I was proposing.”

“Of course Cas should pay for your outfit if it is required for the date it’s his turn to pay for,” said Sarah firmly, which was so much like what Sam had just been thinking about scholarships and books he couldn’t help but agree too. Deanna glowered at him for the non-support. 

Cas nudged her elbow,

“Do you not provide me with a rifle when we are hunting?”

“That’s different, that’s a loan.”

“There’s a certain difficulty in me loaning you a dress of mine,” said Cas.

“We’re not the same size,” Deanna agreed dolefully.

Cas nodded solemnly, “Exactly.” 

Sam just sighed because they were just too hopelessly ridiculous.

“That aside,” Cas continued more seriously, “you could consider it a loan if you wished. I admit I would not take it well if you wore it on a date with someone else.”

“I’m not going to date anyone else,” she snarled, outraged.

“There you go then. Now I will discuss the budget with my lovely assistant in the hope she can restrain your ideas. Pretty woman indeed.” Cas snorted and drew Sarah to one side.

Deanna’s face screwed up, “I think I just got suckered, but I can’t quite work out how.”

Cas was a sly little bastard and Sam figured his sister had no idea how much fancy jewelry was about to come flying her way now Cas had an ‘it’s needed for our date’ excuse. He also figured he didn’t want to be anywhere in their general vicinity when she did work it out. Doors falling off their hinges would be the least of it.

“No idea.” Sam quickly moved the subject on, “Good thing I’ve still got my tux from the prom.”

“God it took me forever to make that fit you, you goddamn moose,” she flexed the phantom ache out of her fingers, “but I was right that you’d need it again.”

Sam grunted, Deanna was right annoyingly often but he didn’t actually have to admit it out loud.

“And hey, Cas in a tux,” Deanna abruptly looked much more cheerful. “Oooh, that’s almost worth shopping for. Come on Sarah, we better go or I’ll have no time to make any adjustments. Lucky I brought my sewing stuff.”

Sarah started to say something but Cas spoke over her, 

“Off you go then. Sam and I will meet will meet you outside at half past six.”

“Six-thirty it is.” Sarah grabbed Deanna’s hand tugged her along. “Come on Deanna, I’ll show you all my favorite shops.”

Deanna glared back at them, mouthing _all?_ and making throat slitting gestures at him and Cas, but obediently trailed behind. Sam wasn’t sure who he should be feeling sorry for.

 

Back in their dorm room, Sam pretended to write his essay as fidgeted with his pens, pad, and coffee mug. Finally Cas looked from his laptop.

“Samuel, be still.”

“But what if she upsets her, or offends her?”

“I am sure Sarah is aware that if she upsets your sister, while Deanna will probably forgive her, you never will.”

Sam opened his mouth to say he’d be talking about Deanna upsetting Sarah, then realized Cas was actually right, it was the other way around. He glared at his best friend; Cas shouldn’t know him so well.

Cas laughed softly and returned to his laptop.

Sam forced his attention back onto his essay. He didn’t know why he was worried, it wasn’t like Deanna allowed anybody to upset her or get her down, not for long anyway. His sister was invincible.

He managed to grind out half an essay before he and Cas had to get dressed up. As they headed outside to wait, he squirmed uncomfortably,

“Is it my imagination, or are people staring at us?”

“Do you think Deanna will wear her hair up? It looks like extremely nice like that.”

Had Sam mentioned Cas was kind of one-track when it came to his sister? Because he _so_ was.

“Cas, could you concentrate for a second. Because half the college appears to be hanging out around our place.”

“And a brown velvet dress, because Deanna does not need a dress that adds, it must only not detract.”

Sam clapped one hand across his face, “For fuck’s sake Cas.” Cas went on ignoring him. Two could play that game, so Sam settled down to plotting out the rest of his essay. He was aware of the stir of the crowd before he caught that the door had opened behind them.

Turning he saw Sarah was holding the door for Deanna to make her entrance. She _was_ wearing her hair up, and a dark brown velvet dress. Which meant her and Cas’ ability to read each other minds had reached new and scarier levels.

Sam actually thought he could see what Cas had been burbling about. The shift dress was almost offensively plain, longer than Deanna usually wore and with its dull color it should have been drab, but somehow the very drabness made Deanna pop into focus, fully herself.

She was wearing Cas’ mother’s locket on a thin gold chain and Cas’ grandma’s watch, because the pair of them were hopelessly sentimental. And she did in fact look extremely nice.

Sam’s brain had a bit of a problem with that because Deanna was always beautiful, but elegant was not usually a word that could be applied to his sister, unless she was shooting something.

Sarah snuggled up to his side, “Your faces,” she giggled.

Cas looked ready to go down on one knee. He offered Deanna his arm, “My lady.”

“Cas.”

Sam didn’t have the patience just then for one of their staring contests so he put two fingers in mouths and blasted out a whistle. Sarah glared at him, but it had its intended effect as Deanna turned to look at him.

“Geez Sammy, you trying to call a cab from Kansas?”

“Let’s go,” he huffed impatiently. The stares slicing into his back were increasing in intensity.

“Wait a minute, Cas are my shoes okay?” Deanna extended one foot, “The assistant said you wouldn’t like them, but Sarah said they’d be okay?”

Sam studied the simple high-heeled strappy brown sandal. It looked okay to him, but what did he know? And other girls weren’t always exactly reliable when they gave Deanna advice on what she should wear.

“They are fine,” said Cas, “I believe the issue to be that at some point you indicated they would make you taller than me.”

“And that’s bad?” Deanna checked, and Sam was grateful, he was never going to get all the rules straight because they kept finding new ones and none of them made any sense.

“Not as far as I am concerned,” said Castiel. He was still looking at Deanna’s extended foot and his eyes had gone all heavy lidded and sleepy.

Sarah giggled and turned away. “Can you believe she’s never worn heels before?”

Sam huffed because why would Deanna wear stupid shoes that threw her balance off anyway,

“Deanna can pick any lock in under than five minutes.”

Deanna tilted her head at him, in an eerie imitation of Cas, “Random much, lawyer boy.”

“Well you can,” he sulked. Couldn’t a guy compliment his sister without it being a big deal?

“Aww,” cooed Sarah, “it’s so cute how much his loves his big sister.”

Both Deanna and Sam stared at her, because where the hell had that come from?

“It’s adorable. When Castiel rhapsodizes over you, Sam will be off glowering in the corner because nobody can possibly understand how brilliant his big sister is except for him.”

Sam blinked at Deanna and she blinked back at him. They came to the mutual decision to pretend Sarah had never said anything and Sam heaved a sigh of relief.

Deanna turned back to Cas, “You rhapsodize over me, huh?”

“I like speaking of you, that is true.”

And now they were doing the soulful gaze again. Sam’s life was so unfair.

“Come on,” he tugged gently on Sarah’s arm, “we can go find a taxi.”

He had forgotten their crowd of watchers. As soon as they were a dozen paces away, a bunch of guys pushed forward and swarmed Deanna and Cas.

“Good evening ladies,” yelled a loud obnoxious voice. Sam’s head dropped, they should have moved faster. Jordan Traynor and his little pack off alpha jocks were Cas’ chief tormenters. Would-be tormentors anyway, given Cas never seemed to notice he was being tormented, let alone actually getting het up about it. Sam knew for certain he’d never mentioned them to Deanna, but her eyes were growing narrower and narrower as if she was picking up the details of every single mocking laugh, taunt, and overly-friendly slap on the back right out of the air around them.

“Good evening gentlemen,” she said frostily, “and I use the term loosely.”

Sam urged Sarah further back.

Jordan’s face went flat and mean, “Now the way I hear it, you’re not that much of a lady. Listening to your boyfriend here, you’ve been around the block plenty of times.”

That comment appeared to cut through Deanna’s foot-thick skin, and Sam was confused until her eyes flicked away from Jordan to Cas.

Cas shrugged his shoulders helplessly, “You chose me.”

“I like that part too,” Deanna agreed, and then they were staring at each other again. Sam sighed.

“Yeah,” said Jordan, “so maybe Mr Socially Hopeless has the money to keep you in style you’d like to become accustomed,” he eyed up her dress in a way that made Sam itch to punch him. He would have too, except Deanna was about to do it herself, when she could be bothered, and his sister was way more terrifying than Sam could ever hope to be, “but there’s no way someone like him can satisfy a woman like you.”

Deanna tore her eyes away from Cas and glared at the interruption, “Are you still trying to be offensive, or are you trying to get in my pants? Because I’m confused, and I need to know whether I’m supposed to be punching you or slapping you.”

“I think he’s going for both at the same time,” said Cas.

“Does that ever work?”

“It shows ambition.”

“True.”

Like magnets their eyes had found each other again. Jordan hissed like an expiring kettle in frustration at being ignored. Sam felt he should offer the poor guy his commiserations because _nobody_ could hold Deanna’s attention when Cas was around.

“Hey,” Jordan grabbed Deanna’s arm. “You can’t honestly like hanging around with this loser. I can show you a good time.”

“God you’re as bad as Sammy for thinking you live in a TV set. And why do you always pick bad lines from the really boring movies?” She twisted her arm and briskly yanked free of his grip, already turning to Cas, “if you ever start spouting movie dialogue it better be from something more exciting than made for TV. Maybe Zombie Apocalypse.”

“I want to eat your brains?” Cas’ nose screwed up.

“Hmm, it doesn’t really work does it. Car chase movie?” she offered.

“Do they even have dialogue?”

“None that I ever listened to. But we could go drive cars really fast.”

“Sounds perfect.” They smiled at each other in complete harmony.

“Ohhh, they are so sweet,” gushed Sarah. 

Sam could only presume she had missed the signs of impending violence. Deanna had heeled out of her sandals and Cas had shifted slightly so they stood more back to back than side by side. They were both poised on the balls of their feet, arms loose and ready. Sam encouraged Sarah to back up another couple of steps, no point in getting in their way.

Jordan shoved himself right into Deanna’s personal space,

“You here because you fucked your way through all the guys in your hick town? You come here looking for a real man? I can give you what you want, baby.”

She snorted, “With those lines how can you fail, oh wait. And for your information, _Sammy’s_ ten times the man you’ll ever be.”

“Dee-Dee!” Sam yelped, because, it was seriously not on to swipe at him the same time she dissed Jordan.

She winked at him, licked her finger and chalked one up. Her smirk said that should teach him for have such a chick-flicky girlfriend. Sam ground his teeth.

Jordan gave a great roar of frustration at being ignored again, it had probably never happened to him before, and grabbed her for the second and final time. Deanna moved really fast, and Jordan was suddenly groaning on the sidewalk. Deanna bounced on her toes and looked around for somebody else to fight.

Two of Jordan’s henchmen moved in on Cas.

“Hiding behind your girlfriend,” they sneered and started to grab for him, then Cas was moving really fast and two more bodies were groaning on the ground.

“No,” said Cas blandly and dusted off his hands.

Deanna was looking hopefully out at the crowd, “Oh come on,” she cajoled. “Nobody else want to give it a go? I’ll give you a free shot.” Sam had never seen so many people duck at the same time before.

He was distracted from his sister by a quiet, “Eeep!” at his side.

“Sarah? You okay?”

“They just… Your sister… And Castiel!”

“Yeah,” agreed Sam, scrubbing at his hair. Cas was kneeling down and helping Deanna slide her sandals back on.

“They’re kind of perfect for each other, aren’t they?”

Sam opened his mouth, because they were not perfect for each other. Cas was bossy and short, stubborn to the point of idiocy, furiously determined, too obedient to his stupid family to turn down Harvard despite not wanting to go, just like Deanna was too obedient to their stupid father to leave Kansas despite not wanting to stay. Actually Sam had pretty much lost track of whether he was describing Cas, or Deanna. They _were_ kind of perfect for each other. They definitely deserved each other.

As he watched his sister smiling down at her boyfriend, he realized for the first time that Deanna loved Cas. He knew Cas loved his sister. That was just a fact. Cas had black hair, Cas had blue eyes, Cas was in love with Deanna. Somehow though he’d never noticed that Deanna loved Cas back just as fiercely. 

He blinked rapidly, staring at the sudden stranger. She was only a few feet away from him but right then that space was unbridgeable.

From a distance so great it was like looking back at a memory, he watched as Deanna accepted the offer of Cas’ arm and then delicately picked her way past the still stunned frat boys.

“Aren’t you coming, Sammy?”

“Whuh?”

“The impala’s this way.”

“You don’t let me ride in the impala,” he pouted sulkily, feeling all of five.

“Well you’re _at_ college,” said Deanna casually, not looking him in the eye.

“You should agree before she changes her mind,” said Cas. Which was Cas for stop being emotionally incompetent Winchesters.

“Oh well in that case.” Sam whooped and ran forwards, scooping Deanna up and over one shoulder. Deanna yelled with delight and straightened up and flinging her arms out for balance. Together they flew.

When he reached the Impala Sam span them both around and around until they were dizzy and sick with laughter. He dropped Deanna by the driver’s door and staggered drunkenly round to the passenger side door. His hand was on the handle, when he glanced back and saw Cas and Sarah following them more sedately. Sam looked down at the door handle, across at Deanna and then back at Cas.

He held the door open for Cas to slide into the front seat. The he held the back door for Sarah.

“Why thank you kind sir,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes. “Your sister being here must have brought out your company manners.”

Sam boggled over the idea of Deanna and manners in the same sentence as he walked back around to the other side of the car and got in. It was weirdly like he was suddenly eight again when he rode in the back in solitary state while Deanna sat up front with Dad and map read. But Sarah was smiling at him and after he sat down she cuddled in close, and this was nothing like being eight.

His eyes caught Deanna’s in the mirror and she winked at him. Glancing down he saw Cas had placed his left hand on her thigh. Deanna put the car into gear, then threaded her fingers with his.

Sam was distracted when Sarah tugged on his jacket.

“Wanna know a secret?” she whispered.

“Sure.”

“Guess how much Deanna’s watch is worth?”

Sam’s brow wrinkled up as he thought about it. It was pretty fancy for an old watch, and the fact Sarah even asked suggested it was a trick question. So he doubled his best guess.

“A hundred bucks.”

Sarah giggled and squirmed closer and he could feel her lips brush against his ear as she whispered, “Try a million.”

“What? That’s ridiculous. It’s ancient. It belonged to Cas’ grandma.”

“Who must have had some money. Of course I could be wrong. It could be more.”

“More!”

“It’s a rose gold Patek Phillippe, and custom made. If the auction room is with you, well, the sky’s the limit.”

“What about the locket?”

“Plated nickel, badly plated nickel. Ten dollars for the interest of the pictures inside it, if the buyer was feeling generous. Of course the chain is solid gold.”

“Cas bought that chain specifically for Deanna so she could wear the locket. She’ll kill him if she ever finds out.” In fact Sam was almost positive she said Cas told her he picked it up at a junk store. Which could possibly still be true, he supposed, if you had a liberal definition of junk store. The thought of Sarah’s reaction to her father’s exclusive auction house being called a junk store had him biting his lip to hide his laughter.

“You don’t think we should tell her?”

“No chance.” Sam wasn’t getting involved in that one. Cas was obviously way sneakier than he’d given him credit for. “If Cas wanted her to know, he’d tell her.”

“But she walking around thinking it’s only worth a hundred dollars. She won’t know it needs to be looked after properly.”

Sam laughed scornfully, “It belonged to Cas’ grandma, and Cas gave it her. Deanna couldn’t take more care of it if it was worth twenty million.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Sarah still looked a bit twitchy though, like she wanted to scoop the watch up and keep it safely locked away. Sam decided he better not mention that if it came down to it, the watch would go to the wall, and Deanna would unhesitatingly save the ten dollar locket with the picture of Cas’ mom inside.

He started to talk about Sarah’s plans for Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving was his emergency conversation savior; everybody always had something to say about it. Even Deanna liked Thanksgiving because there were nearly always grocery bargains after the event, the Winchesters celebrated late to take full advantage. 

Sam never told people that. Instead he told them about the year Deanna took over cooking the Thanksgiving turkey after Dad dumped the half burnt, half still frozen carcass in her lap. He didn’t, however, mention Deanna’s shocked eyes or the way Dad keeled over dead-drunk immediately afterwards. Funnily enough that was the year the Winchesters stopped celebrating Thanksgiving on the day itself. He’d never realized that before. 

Now he thought about it, peculiarly, because Mom died at the beginning of the month not the end, both Dad and Deanna loathed Thanksgiving. He had a feeling that now he was no longer there to force the issue, neither Dad nor Deanna would ever celebrate Thanksgiving again.

“So,” said Sarah, “will you? Please?”

“Of course,” said Sam, without the slightest idea of what he had just agreed to.

“Oh thank you. My parents just can’t wait to meet you.”

Sam frantically tried to remember the words he’d been half-listening to so he could turn them into some sort of sense. Sarah’s parents were coming out to Harvard to visit their daughter. Sarah was going to dinner with them. Sam just agreed to go to dinner with Sarah’s parents for Thanksgiving. Huh. It would be interesting to see what a proper Thanksgiving was like. Cas’ family did a Thanksgiving photo-shoot which was an improvement on Sam’s family’s non-celebration, but Sam didn’t think it counted as normal. Should be worth a few stories though.

Deanna pulled up outside the restaurant. It was just as fancy and expensive looking as Sam remembered. There was a small contretemps when the parking valet tried to take the impala but Cas tipped him anyway and he left them alone. Sam and Sarah went inside while Deanna and Cas went to park.

“And no ‘parking’,” Sam did inverted commas with his hands, “I’m hungry.”

“Me too,” agreed Deanna, with a look at Cas that made it obvious she didn’t mean for food.

“Come on Sam,” said Sarah, “looks like we’ll need to find you some breadsticks.”

Sam sighed.

 

When Deanna and Cas finally arrived, Sam took a deep breath and made a conscious effort to be a grown-up and not whine at them. He grinned instead,

“Hey, this is cool isn’t it? Almost a double-date.”

Sarah stared at him, “Sam this is exactly a double-date, unless you mean, I’m, well,” she flushed miserably.

“Oh no, no, no,” said Sam, because he was all about dating Sarah. “It’s just…” he stopped unsure how to explain he was used to it being Deanna and Sam with others tagging along, not them being part of two separate couples.

Deanna laughed. “After eighteen months you’ve got as far as admitting that I’m _almost_ dating Cas. You’re as bad as Dad.”

“I am _not_.”

“No, you’re worse.”

“Take that back!”

“Children, children,” said Cas and they stopped glaring at each other to glare at him.

However Sam remembered his sudden realization that Deanna was in love with Cas and, while Cas and Sarah were distracted discussing the wine order, he leaned over and said quietly,

“I’m really glad you and Cas are so happy together.”

Deanna just said, “Jesus Samantha,” and socked him in the shoulder, but her smile was bright.

Sam sniffed because he felt mortifyingly teary-eyed and hugged Sarah, who hugged him back and held his hand under the table. With Sarah at his side, Sam looked across the table at Deanna and Cas (whatever they were doing under the table, it was _not_ holding hands) and thought that he’d never been so happy.

After a loud and boisterous meal they drove back to the student end of town. Deanna kicked off her sandals and pulled on her boots, Cas stripped off his jacket and tie, and undid the cuffs of his shirt and shook them out.

“All right let’s rip it up,” Cas yanked Deanna in for a quick messy kiss. 

“Yeah,” Sam started a strategic retreat, “think we’ll be heading back now.”

Sarah was locked in place, “Is Castiel _drunk_?” she asked incredulously.

“No,” said Sam, “well, yes, a bit, but mostly it’s being around Deanna.”

“It’s like he’s woken up after being asleep all the time I’ve known him.”

Cas appeared suddenly beside them and made them jump. 

“One day I’m going to catch you using your transporter beam,” Sam grumbled. Stupid badass alien.

“What was that? How much have you had to drink Sammy?” demanded Deanna, trying to press her hand to his forehead to check his temperature.

Sam pushed her away, “Not nearly enough.”

“Deanna is worth waking up for,” said Cas seriously. 

“We’ll leave you to it,” said Sam, trying to edge away again.

“Oh no,” Sarah grabbed his arm and yanked him back. “Where do you want to go, Deanna?”

She looked around.

“There,” said Cas firmly. And Sam was being hauled off for drunken karaoke because nobody could say his family wasn’t classy. 

Only one drink in and Cas was headed for the stage, singing growly and off-key as he demanded, ‘Why Can’t This Be Love’. Deanna practically snatched the microphone from his hands and retaliated with ‘Fastest Girl in Town’. Cas grabbed it back to declare that he didn’t ‘give a damn about our bad reputation.’

Sam sighed heavily and gulped his jack and coke, “Heaven forbid they stop arguing long enough to actually enjoy themselves.”

“It’s sweet,” Sarah protested, sipping her vodka tonic.

“It’s worse than that, they’re singing each other’s songs. Cas is the country boy, Deanna’s classic rock.”

Sarah giggled.

On stage Deanna and Cas were glaring evilly at each other over the microphone they were both clutching. The MC, showing either extreme bravery or foolhardiness, suggested a duet. More evil glaring and then ‘Somethin’ Stupid like I Love You’ started playing.

“Oh that is it,” snarled Sam. He stormed the stage before the song was barely finished and confiscated the microphone. Without much thought he chose something loud and rocky by the Carrs and belted it out while Deanna and Cas slammed through tequila like it was going out of style because talking to each other would obviously be way too easy.

He lost track of them after that, distracted by Sarah, who was too shy to sing on her own and asked him to accompany her while she sang ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’. Then she dragged him onto the dance floor ignoring his imploring that he couldn’t dance.

When he caught up with them again, he was mostly holding Sarah up as she cuddled in warm and loose-limbed. Deanna and Cas appeared to have given up on arguing for moment, they were standing close together, Deanna’s head resting against Cas’ s shoulder, both smiling. Sam wasn’t sure life had ever been so perfect.

He threw himself on Sarah’s mercy when Deanna began to make heavy hints about sexiling from his and Cas’ dorm room. – “Sammy, you need to find somewhere else to sleep, ‘less you fancy listening to me make Cas scream,” all said with a wicked grin. Deanna didn’t see the point in bothering with subtle. Cas, head tilted to one side, eyes watching her intently, just grinned blissfully.

Sarah laughed at him, and them, and agreed to let him sleep on the sofa. Sam wasn’t really designed to sleep on a tiny sofa though, so when he woke himself up for the third time as the sun was inching above the horizon, he wrote her note asking if they could meet later, then headed outside to breath in the fresh morning air as he stretched out his legs and back and the day slowly unfolded warm and light.

When he was sure it would be safe, he strolled relaxedly back to his room.

He was surprised by how unsurprised he was to find the room deserted, Cas’ cameras and small stash of personal possessions cleared out, and on top of the neatly made bed a note.

_Gone to see the Grand Canyon C &D_

Sam smiled softly. He picked up the paper folded it in half and slipped it in the back of his wallet. Then he wandered downstairs to see if Sarah wanted to go out for breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> Karaoke Songs in Order (in case you were wondering)
> 
> Why Can’t This Be Love – Van Halen  
> Fastest Girl in Town – Miranda Lambert  
> Bad Reputation – Joan Jett  
> Somethin’ Stupid – Robbie Williams and Nicole Kidman / many others  
> My Best Friend’s Girl – The Carrs  
> Don’t Go Breaking My Heart – Elton John and Kiki Dee


End file.
